The Crossing
by ayziks
Summary: This fan fic is inspired by the recent Land Rover commercial that features a beautiful young woman leading a sled dog team who reaches an impassable stream in the middle of miles of ice, then a Land Rover arrives with a handsome young man that takes the woman and entire team across safe and dry to let them proceed on their trek on the other side. Rated T for suggestive behaviors.


**The Crossing**

 **Authors Notes:** I had a lot of fun doing this one. This one shot fan fic brings to life the characters in the recent Land Rover commercial about a young woman leading a sled dog team across a vast ice sheet and is rescued from an impassable stream by a man in an SUV. Watch the Land Rover commercial called "The Crossing" then read this story. I can't give you the link for the commercial because ffnet eliminates links. Key words "Land Rover" and "The Crossing" commercial. I hope you see the story and relationship that I saw in that simple 30 second commercial. This is not a plug for Land Rover. I own a Jeep! :)

Rated T for romantic relationship innuendo between the characters.

...

The beautifully thin but shapely, alabaster-skinned, blue-eyed platinum blond zipped up her striking red parka over her white turtleneck as she made final preparation to leave their partially in-ground, earth-friendly, energy efficient, grid-independent homestead. Kristen and David lived mostly off the land, and were proud of it, though their in-home high tech communications system were connected to anyone and anything they needed to run their businesses.

David handed her the freshly charged satellite phone and handheld GPS system, "I won't be able to lose you now if we get a whiteout, Kristen."

"Thank you, dear husband. You're always looking out for me," she praised his resourcefulness, and pecked him lightly on his lips.

There had been a far more substantial kiss the night before, and they lingered as long as they could this morning after that time together, but both of them knew she needed to get on the trail.

"The satellite photos this morning show that it's warm enough that it might not snow at all on this run." he explained.

"You're right. It's actually too warm, David. But you know I have to get out on the ice pack and practice. I'm behind in my training. The team doesn't have enough stamina yet. There hasn't been enough snow or frozen ground this fall. I'll never qualify if I don't keep the regimen, and the team will never make it all the way through the course. March will be here in no time at all. I'm not getting any younger, husband."

That coming from someone in her twenties was most amusing to him, and he was only barely thirty.

Kristen's dedication to the nearly 1000 mile annual Iditarod sled dog race was one of the things that endeared her to him. She was a winter sports fanatic like he was, and what had drawn both to Alaska, giving up on cushy office jobs in Seattle. She wasn't the only female racer, but certainly one of the newest and most aggressive. Neither was a stranger to bitter cold weather and difficult conditions. David was a competitive world class cross country skier, concentrating on the long distances when he wasn't running his successful Alaskan bush pilot business.

The thrills they experienced supporting each other's activities in the cold northernmost part of the US and Canada were an essential part of the couple's relationship.

David explained, "Well, that's why I'm going to follow you closely, Kristen. I'm worried about ice melts, and you getting stranded by run off or getting stuck in permafrost thaws and bogs. I've had to divert the plane to several alternate landing strips already this fall."

Kristen scoffed at his concern, "You're sweet, but I can handle it. A sled team is not like an aircraft."

"If you and the team get soaked you won't last a day. I don't care how waterproof you think you are."

She asserted, "You just gave me my satellite phone and three different GPS' with homing beacons. I'd call you or set off the tracking alarm. You could come get me in the plane. It's got skis."

David was not having any of her objections, "No dear. I'm sorry. I'm going to be close behind on your trail with the SUV. Later in the season when the ground gets good and frozen and you make your longer runs, I'll be on call."

Despite his care and dedication to her safety, she pursed her lips at him and scolded, "David, I'm not some helpless little girl. What about you? What if you get stuck in something yourself? SUVs are not invincible."

"I've never had a problem yet, and I am not about to now," he claimed confidently.

"Well that's true," she said with some relief.

That appendicitis attack earlier this fall she had didn't stopped David from getting her to the nearest town's to clinic in a blinding fall snowstorm and some of the worst road conditions ever. And it was a good thing too, it would have burst. At that point they thought it was going to be a hard winter. But it had been mild ever since.

David asked for the umpteenth time, "Kristen, do you have everything?"

"I've been over my list six times, and you reminded me several times, sweetheart. I'm pretty sure that I'm ready," she grinned in reply and reached for him, rubbed his scratchy three day old beard that she adored, and gave him a wry grin complaining mildly, "And you think I'm the worry wart in the family."

He ran his bare hand through her short, straight blond locks, and ended with a caress to her warm cheek, "I'd be lost if you ever got hurt, kiddo. Your sled is packed with all the required stuff. I have all the emergency gear with me. Extra gas. Extra heater. Extra food. Spare tent. Blankets… Extra sleeping bag…"

She grinned with his suggestive tone, "You think of everything, David. But don't press your luck dear. I am officially in 'training mode' now. We'll just have to see what happens. Thank you, dear, for all your help. It seems the team is really ready to go. I heard them while we were showering."

The five dog team had been ready, and were yipping and barking. They knew this was the day they'd be on the trail when they saw her packing the sled. They didn't know why their humans were chatting so long. They were all hooked up, and Kristen usually gave the mush signal right away. The lead dog blamed their master's male mate. He always slowed things down.

"Hold still guys. It'll be soon," she urged. They quieted, but there was a lot of anxious tail wagging and an impatient 'ruff' sound from the lead dog, as if to say, 'cut the mushy stuff and let's get going'.

"David. I gotta go. They're all worked up. They want to run."

"I know."

The pair hugged and gave each other a light kiss. They never really liked to be apart, but separation did in fact make the heart grow fonder for a couple who still acted like newlyweds.

She stood in the driver's position on her sled, "Well this is it."

David asked to confirm their plans, "Three days out, right?"

She answered, "Yes, then back home."

David said confidently, "I'm glad to be out on the trail with you."

Coyly, she responded, "I know you love sleeping in that tent with me."

He smiled, "Well you like it too, dear."

She caressed his cheek, "It makes up for all the times I'm alone on the trail. I get to dream of the practice times."

The huskies were getting very impatient and yanked on their harnesses.

"David… I have to leave," she said with a reluctant look.

He grinned, "I know. I'll be out there… lurking."

She snickered, "My husband: the snow stalker. I know you; you'll just love driving alone without me ordering you around. As much as you love flying, I swear you drive the SUV like a low-flying aircraft."

"Guilty…" he blushed.

Kristen rolled her eyes at him and yelled to the team, "Mush!"

They all barked loudly and excitedly, and David watched his wife depart with her team. The dogs' harnesses snapped taught and the sled moved with a jerk as they headed away from their home buried partially into the hillside on to the expansive ice plains that stretched miles unimpeded from the mountains to the ocean.

It was a typical gray overcast cloudy day in Alaska. It should have been well below freezing. Six hours into her trek, Kristen noticed she was feeling too warm in her thermal wear. Her thermometer said high 20s, but the past few weeks the temperatures had been above freezing. She saw some cracks and puddles in the snow covering the ice sheet and permafrost that she steered the team around.

 _"Not good,"_ she thought to herself.

Following several miles behind her, tracking her blip on the SUV screen and churning up a cloud of snow behind him, David maneuvered around an unexpected big puddle.

 _"This isn't going to end well…"_ he thought. About that time, his satellite phone rang.

"Yes dear?" he asked.

Her voice was frustrated to almost the point of tears, "I'm stuck, David. I don't know what to do now."

"On my way…"

He gunned the engine and it responded instantly.

The puddles continued, and were getting worse. David strained to see the lone red figure that was her and the team stopped dead, but he couldn't see what was holding them back. He noticed her looking frantically for a way around her obstacle. She gave an exasperated gesture with her arms. Her three day trek was likely done in the first five hours.

And then he saw what was frustrating her and the team. It was formidable.

There was free flowing water as far as the eye could see extending to the right and left of the team as well as in front of them – from the highlands to the end of the ice as it met the seashore miles distant - about 50 to 100 feet across and a couple of feet deep. It was that run which should have been completely frozen over at this time of year, a real creek only during the brief summer thaw and growing season. The current was not strong, but it would spill over the sled and would soak the dogs, if not Kristen.

"I'm sorry boys," Kristen lamented and waited for David to arrive. The team whimpered. They knew what this meant. They were anxious to move on, but the water frightened them. She thought they were going to have to turn around and go home.

She heard the familiar sound of a roaring powerful engine and a snow whirlwind behind the approaching machine.

David pulled up behind the sled and the team, and looked anxiously at her. He didn't want to crack any ice between her and the stream potentially dumping the team into the icy cold shallow water.

Wordless exasperated looks were exchanged between husband and wife. David had an additional look of concern, but she indicated everything was all right. Though only wed for three years, they had a way of communicating that often didn't need words. The wind across the flatlands was fairly brisk so it would have been nearly impossible to talk anyway.

Standing next to each other, they were able to talk.

"I just barely got started, David, and now look at this." she pouted. It was her classic lip curl. It normally was cute, but he knew better.

"We've been across this run before, Kristen."

"Yeah, but when it was 60 degrees and about ten feet across and three inches deep."

"It isn't much deeper even if it is wider."

"I guess so…" she said doubtfully.

He asked, "Do you want to go home or keep going?"

Kristen was adamant, "I want to keep going, of course. But I don't see how you get me around this."

David grinned, "I don't. I take you and the team across this."

She was concerned, "But is it safe?"

David replied confidently, "You know what this machine can do."

"I know, but If you get stuck then we're really in trouble," Kristen answered, still very concerned.

He held her by the shoulders and assured her, "We won't. Since when did you say 'no' to obstacles ahead of you?"

She teased, "Well I almost said no to your proposal years ago, David dear."

"That's because you wanted to come here and I wanted to stay in Seattle," he reminded her.

She smiled, "Well you removed that barrier by coming with me."

He smirked, "And as they say, 'and the rest is history'."

She said affectionately, "I love you."

The lead dog barked at both of them, as if to say: "Enough of that, come take care of us."

She looked at the huskie, but then back at David with a big smile, "I love you too."

"I think he's jealous," David joked.

She grinned, "Only out on the trail. You know who's alpha male at home, dear."

"Today, we remove another big barrier and get you all back on the open trail," he claimed.

She tentatively agreed, "If you think so…"

David was adamant, "I know so."

Without saying anything else, he opened the back of the SUV, flipped up the bench seat and let her sled dog team climb in the back seat, and helped her store the compact sled in the vehicle behind the five huskies. It just fit the back end. The all savored the warmth. The dogs were a little pungent after the long ride. But it didn't matter. The five huskies were family and often shared their owners' gigantic bed at home. Huskies were much better insulation than thick blankets on the coldest nights. Besides, on the long runs, Kristen got a little pungent herself - not that David didn't after a 10K cross country ski.

He shifted into low four wheel drive and carefully moved forward, testing the firmness and traction of the ground around the run. It felt safe.

The water wasn't deep and wasn't roaring, but it was a long trek across the water. Kristen would never encounter something like open water like this on the actual run. He'd be able to ford the shallow water. The pair glanced at each other, and he put the front wheels into the water, and checked the clearance and the depth. It was barely up to the axles, and wasn't getting deeper. He took it really slow because of all the rocks. It was pretty bumpy, and they slipped a couple of times, which he steered to correct.

David gave Kristen a glance at the midpoint of their ford of the stream. She had her gloved hand affectionately on the top of his leg as they proceeded, but was already focused on the trek ahead. He knew that stare. Kristen was a human sled dog in sync with her canine team. She'd be sweet and loving after it was all over.

Soon, David maneuvered the SUV and cleared all the rocks and debris and pulled up the slight embankment of other side. All the huskies could see nothing but snow ahead again, were very anxious to go after they got across the water. They yelped their gratitude to David. The lead dog knew their master's mate was occasionally good for something. The canine had no idea his two humans were planning to make their first 'litter of puppies' after this year's Iditarod.

Kristen got the dogs all hooked up again to the sled, while David helped feed and water them, and gave them all a ruffle of their fur and a warm hug.

David and Kristen stood face-to-face, hand-in-hand, knowing it was 'farewell' again until the end of the day, "Thank you, dear. I know I wasn't happy you were 'tailing me' but now I'm glad you did."

"I know how important this is to you. And to them. I'll be out of sight but not that far away."

She just smiled at her husband and flipped the parka hood over her beautiful hair in preparation to go. She gave him 'that glance' and slight smile. It was an electrifying look of pure love and admiration for David and he just returned her smile. That look attracted her to him so long ago during that first chartered flight with him that had been 'simply business'. But business quickly became attraction and affection shortly thereafter. She was an adventurer like him and he hoped she never lost that drive.

Kristen and her team took off again into the snow. For miles ahead it was a straight flat ice field, framed by the icy mountains rising from the plain, with the strikingly beautiful cloud deck hugging both mountain and ice field with fading light.

With his greater speed in the SUV, David had some time before they got to their base camp for the night, so he was going to head down to the National Weather Service Station and make sure it was OK in a deal he made with NOAA before swinging back to the base camp they planned to rendezvous at. He had something brand new that he knew she wouldn't turn down. It was a double width fleece sleeping bag that would easily hold them both.

Kristen's Iditarod training was hard, but there were a lot of desirable little perks, most of which included each other. And that's the way they liked it.

As her form disappeared over the horizon, he veered the SUV a bit to the left and floored it, gripping the wheel tighter, stirring up a huge white cloud of powder that blew in the stiff wind over the plain. For now David was one with his machine, looking forward later that night to be one with his bride.


End file.
